


stand alone, together united

by she_who_hears



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: "stephanie is not my daughter" bruce says at he sets up a trust fund for her, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, FLUFF AND PHYSICAL AFFECTION, Gen, Good Big Brother Dick Grayson, Good Big Brother Jason Todd, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Healthy Relationships, LET CASS GOOF OFF 2K19, LET MY DAUGHTER GOOF OFF, Latino Jason Todd, Mental Health Issues, Muslim Damian Wayne, Romani Dick Grayson, Social Media, alfred is immortal, bruce loves his 17 children and they love their emo dad, bruce wants to rehabilitate the rogues, bruce: no metas allowed in gotham, bruce: son meta allowed in gotham, cameos by wine aunt kate loving grandpa lucius tired grandma leslie and confused cousin helena, damian is dicks baby, dont rly know about ships but imagine what u want, duke thoman: hi, ethical billionaire bruce wayne, everyones a BAMF, hes adorable, it aint a fic of mine unless thats a tag, jason has big brother disease tbh but hes such a good boyo, kate and bruce are jewish, nightwing his such a good leader and his team loves him the most, no seriously, ryan potter tim drake owns all my uwus, the batfam loves their speedster, the fam goes to therapy cause they NEED IT, tim and his wangst: a saga, wally west is a good person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-13 08:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_hears/pseuds/she_who_hears
Summary: A family is not defined by blood, after all.





	1. tim's regrets

**Author's Note:**

> hello my lovelies!!! bruh i literally have an entire page on the notes app on my phone full of fun batfam ideas. pls comment it feeeeeeeeeeeds meeeeee (also im not jewish but i wanna involve some jewish bruce so if anybody would like to see something in particular feel free to comment :) somebody already commented about purim and it sounded really fun to me!! :D

 If one were to first glance at Batman, a family man would not be the first words to describe him. Or second. Or fifty-ninth.

 

"Batman is flawless," breathed a random citizen of Central City, and not Gotham, for Gothamites were well aware of the absurdity of their goth Dad.

 

"He has two Batwings and a bullet-proof Batmobile," Captain Marvel whispered, quickly checking to see if Batman were anywhere near the vicinity. On an unrelated note, the vent rustled above them.

 

"I heard his cowl was insured for $10,000," Black Canary chatted, a towel slung over her shoulder.

 

"I heard he saved the president in Japan," muffled one Wally West through his meatball supreme. Mmm, carbs.

 

"His favorite movie is The Godfather," said an awed Plastic Man, body oozing from under a door and making several people cry.

 

"One time, he met Bruce Wayne on a plane," Blue Beetle gossiped. "And he told him he was pretty," Wonder Girl finished, eyes wide as saucers. Superman nearby slammed his head on the table for an unknown reason.

 

"One time he punched me in the face," the white Green Lantern confessed, nursing a bloody nose. "It was awesome."

 

So who was this elusive Batman? The world may never know...

 

"Jason, what are you doing?" Bruce interrogated, finding his second eldest grasping a video camera. Jason turned the camera off, grinned lazily at his dad and saluted. "Just a little project, don't worry 'bout it, old man."

 

Bruce's face furthered into a constipated countenance, but patted Jason on his back anyway. "Well, dinner's ready. Damian made it himself, he's quite proud." Jason cringed slightly. Last time Damian cooked, he miscalculated the oven-time and burnt the meal terribly, but Jason had sucked it up and ate it anyway because the kid looked ready to cry.

 

"I wanted it to be special for Richard," Damian had confessed sadly, staring at the charred (halal, kosher, and vegan) remains of whatever-the-fuck it was supposed to be.

 

"Alfred helped him this time, and it looks quite good, in my opinion." Jason laughed and followed his father into the kitchen. Burnt or not, he could always just sneak in some Chinese.

 

* * *

Damian looked dejectedly into his Lo Mein, eyebrows scrunched together. Even Alfred's reassurances and Richard's coos hadn't softened his upset mood. Perhaps a ten year old attempting to recreate a gourmet meal wasn't a good idea.

 

"Hey," Tim stated from his orange chicken, "Hey kid." Damian glared at his object of hatred, wondering how sad Richard would be if he threw his chopsticks into the unworthy eyes. Tim flicked Damian's forehead, who sputtered adorably.

 

"You're looking at those peppers like they personally affronted your honor," Tim scoffed. "Chill out, baby Zuko." Jason high-fived him, before stealing one of Bruce's fortune cookies because he was the child and the Manor would be his one day anyway.

 

Jason cracked open the cookie and read the fortune. "You will face failure and abject hatred in your life from those you trust the most."

 

Duke snickered. "Dude, seriously, what's it say."

 

"No, that's literally what's on there."

 

"What the fuck."

 

As Duke and Jason began the chat-snapping (Bruce's words) of their fortune, Dick nudged Damian with his shoulder. "You tried your best, kiddo."

 

"I failed," Damian deadpanned, looked away. The poor boy's training before his entrance into their lives was clear as the day, or Bruce's man-crush on Clark. Damian wiped his fingers on his napkin, seeing blood instead of orange sauce. Blood _he can't wash_ , even after furiously scrubbing his hands into the bathroom mirror until they were sore and bleeding.

 

"No, baby," Dick comforted, placing his own meal down. "Everyone flubs up in their lives. None of his here are better or worse than the other. It's okay to have regrets." Jason nodded along. 

 

"Timbo has a lot of those," he shrugged, ignoring Tim's cry of protest. "Oh, please," Jason scoffed, poking Tim's cheek with his chopstick. "Might I remind you of  _peanut butter chocolate_." Tim fell silent. 

 

"Wait, peanut-butter chocolate?" Duke asked innocently, unknowing of Tim's greatest regret besides his phase of parting his hair on his right eye, emo style.

 

("It's not a phase, Bruce," Tim defended, holding his bangs. "All the kids are doing it."

 

"You look like you're about to open for My Chemical Romance," Bruce scowled, but his baby seemed to enjoy it and as a Good Parent, he must support him. 

 

"You looked like if an Asian Pete Wentz had a baby with an asexual twink," were the loving words of his best big brother, Jason.)

 

"Jesus, when Tim was like, twelve, he was in a Reese's Puff commercial," Jason explained. He pronounced Reese's like "ree-seez." "Imagine baby Tim rapping about the nutritional value of cereal."

 

"Holy shit," Duke breathed, turning to a mortified Tim. "Like, was Tim actually rapping, or was it like, dubbed in?"

 

"Nope," Dick added, popping the p. "Just prepubescent Tim and his cracking voice, rapping like the wind wearing oversized headphones. Bruce plays it on his birthday every year."

 

"It's good to humble you kids," Bruce explained, ruffling Tim's hair in a very dadly manner.

 

"I hold no loyalty to any of you. When the time comes, I will gladly betray all of you, sacrificing my glory for righteous justice and honor."

 

"Peanut butter chocolate, great when separate-"

 

"Shut the fuck up."

 

"BUT WHEN THEY COMBINE THEY MAKE THE MORNING TIME EPIC!"

 

Tim continued his wangst, but Damian was smiling. They would do anything if it meant Damian could smile like that all the time.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce can't help his paternal instincts, from his kids to (ex)villains to feisty teens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY ACCESSED MY LAPTOP AFIASHFISFHSHF (also omg did u all know that turks love pakistanis??? lmao somebody needs to we dont even love ourselves but yeah theyre all so sweet and funny!!!)

Dick slapped Stephanie’s hand as she was reaching for his cereal. “Ugh, what the heck!”

“My cereal.”

“Bruh, it’s just cereal,” Stephanie whined, rubbing her hand. “You wouldn’t do anything for your favorite pseudo-sister?”

“I would do a lot for you. I'd clean the Bat-mobile for you. I'd bitch slap a rude teacher for you. I would _die_ for you,” Dick said seriously. “But I wouldn’t give you my cereal.”

As Stephanie continued grumbling, Cass naruto ran into the kitchen, emulating her newest hyper-fixation. After twirling, she kissed Dick on the cheek and sat down. She shoved her phone into his face. Dick blinked. In front of him was a photo of 13 year old Jason, with freckled cheeks and a braces clad smile.

“Baby,” Cass emphasized, eyes wide. Dick nodded.

“Baby,” he echoed.

“Baaaaabyyyyy,” Stephanie joined, and the three began chanting. Bruce, sensing his children’s unholiness, enter the kitchen and glanced at the picture. He sharply breathed in, eyes growing soft and nostalgic.

“Baby…”

* * *

Bruce believed he was a good parent. He wasn’t perfect, sure, but his children knew he loved them. He encouraged their interests, supported their therapy sessions, and had learned to be affectionate (Dick, Jason, and Barbara were his saving grace as the self-proclaimed elder siblings.) But he did doubt himself. That afternoon, for example.

Dick had walked by him, carrying Damian. The child was resting comfortably on his hip, eyes half-lidded. “Why don’t you ever let me carry you,” Bruce grumbled. “I’m your actual father.”

Damian frowned. “You have quite the impressive assortment of children to bestow affection upon, Father. I am Richard’s only child, and therefore must uphold the duties that thus commence.”

During the Year of Hell, as the family had lovingly dubbed it, Dick had stepped up during Bruce’s presumed death. With Jason still suffering from his resurrection, Tim self-isolating himself, and the girls distancing themselves, Gotham had sensed one of her own had fallen, and reacted accordingly; with complete and utter chaos. His eldest donned the cowl with his youngest as his Robin.

That time, Damian hadn’t needed a brother, he needed a _father_. Dick absolutely adored the child, and it didn’t take the World’s Greatest Detective to notice their relationship was more parental than fraternal. 

Bruce sighed, sensing Alfred’s British air behind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Alfred. I can't connect with Damian; it's been nearly a year and we haven't made any progress.”

“If I may interject sir,” Alfred, began crisply, “Master Damian and Master Dick have bonded greatly. Master Dick was a fine Batman, and surpassed you on many levels. However he suffered with being orphaned once more, and grew mentally and emotionally unhealthy, despite his assurances. You being here is more than enough for your children.”

Alfred was blunt, as usual. It was difficult for Bruce to accept his eldest’s transition into adulthood; whenever he looked at Dick, he could still see the little seven year old, knobby knees and itty bitty nose. But his baby had grown into a kind, competent man. He placed the needs of his family and his city before his own, and while Bruce would always think his children could stand to be a little more selfish, raising Dick was the greatest privilege he’s ever had.

Bruce looked on. Damian was sitting in Dick’s lap as the elder showed him old circus mementos. Without missing a beat, Dick placed a kiss upon the little head. Bruce suddenly remembered a similar scene with the one in front of him, with a smaller Dickie and himself, his son still raw from his separation with the circus and his family.

Bruce relaxed. His children would be just fine. And Damian _was_ right, he did have an abundance of kids. He in fact searched Duke and Stephanie, and glomped them to his sides. “Brooooosee…” Stephanie mumbled into his arm, while Duke sneezed at the rich people smell. Both didn’t make a move however, and seemed rejuvenated by Bruce’s dadly nurturing.

* * *

"Here she is," Red Hood gestured vaguely at the sprawled out form of Harley Quinn over the cold warehouse floor. "Can somebody call Poison Ivy and tell her to pick up her girlfriend?

"Hrmgh," Batman grunted, before leaning down. He gently poked Harley's shoulder. "Harleen. Did you take your medicine today?"

"...No..." she sniffled, leaning into Batman's paternal touch. "T'makes me go all numb...I d'n't like it..." Hood began shuffling through her purse, searching to find any of her medication.

"Lipstick, flower petals, gum, hey look a knife!" he exclaimed, before brandishing the knife and pointing it at Red Robin. "While you concerned yourself with petty grievances, I studied the blade."

"Boys," Batman chided. "Did you call Ivy?" Hood shrugged.

"She's comin', don't get your panties in a twist. Hey, so like, do you think I would chop of a counter if I did that knife song thing?" he asked Red Robin, who shrugged and pulled out his phone. "If you do, it'll at least be funny. Come on, I wanna put this on YouTube." Batman sighed. He missed Alfred.

"Harleen, the medicine is designed to help you," he began. "Have you been visiting the therapist I advised you to?"

"I'm a fuckin' doctor," Harley grumbled, taking a swig of the water bottle Red Robin handed her. "Didn't go to eight years of college an' three years of residency for nothin'."

"Ugh, go off sis," Hood encouraged as he and Red Robin had a hand-standing contest.

"Harley, you need to attend the sessions," Batman began gruffly, but softly. "It'll help you get better." Harley's mouth trembled and she clenched her fists. A cold warehouse. Green hair and a red smile.

"I done a lot of bad things," Harley said. She swallowed dryly when she looked at Hood, remembering a mouthy little Robin with clipped wings. Her black lipstick was smudged on her mouth and teeth. Batman nodded.

"You have," he answered truthfully. "But you need help. Go to the sessions and take your medicine." Harley finally relented. A few minutes later she would be pampered in Pammie's arms (not green hair and red smile, red hair and green eyes), safe and clean.

"Does it ever get tiring?" Tim asked, after Harley was picked up by Ivy. "Trying to help the rogues? I mean, aren't some people past redemption?"

"There's a difference between a Harley Quinn and a Joker," Batman started. "He saw a vulnerable person he could manipulate, but she's getting better. She's working at an elementary school now, you know." Tim wondered if she knew the Joker was currently on death row. Yes, he could plead insanity, but he was also the fucking Joker.

Yes, helping the rogues was tiring. But most of them were damaged, mentally ill people who resorted to crime through abuse and coercion. Bruce can only hope he can aid the other in receiving the help they need, and to end their harmful reign on Gotham City.

* * *

 Dick and Jason stared at the shivering, blue-haired girl in front of them. "So...Bluebird, huh?" Jason finally asked, nodding at the teenager. She pursed her lips and glowered.

"Another crimefighter?" Dick asked, sitting next to her. "Got anybody lookin' out for you?" Harper scowled.

"No. It's just me and my brother."

"We can help you," Jason replied, sitting next to her. "I mean, Batman sucks, and he's old and stuff, but we're much cooler."

"You really think Batman would take in a random teenager and her kid brother?"

"He stole me from the circus."

"He kidnapped me off the streets."

"I need someone to stand in solidarity," Duke interjected, swinging his legs over the ledge of the building. "Just come for breakfast. It'll be chill."

Harper did decide to join for breakfast, ignoring her anxiety with buttered scones and jam. She didn't expect there to be like, ten people eating together, and for _Bruce Wayne_ to trudge downstairs and inhale a cup of coffee. He didn't say anything about her or to her until he finished his breakfast and ventured out to work, briefly dadding his children in the form of a quick hug or hair ruffle. He paused when he got to her, and Harper felt sweat coating the back of her neck.

"Are you one of mine?" he asked.

"Y-yes?"

Bruce grunted. He then proceeded to ruffle her hair as well. "Don't be late for dinner."

The children smiled. Their family was complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun, family, and fluff- my life motto (pls comment it feeds me i mean ill still write if u dont bc this fic is for me and all my brothers and sisters and nb siblings who LOVE pure, unadulterated fluff uwu)
> 
> ALSO tims profile pic is from COLOR-REAPER on deviant art :)

**Author's Note:**

> i dont have apple emojis IM SORRY OKAY I TRIED MY BEST :(


End file.
